A Forgotten Tune
by soaringspirits
Summary: What if Madeleine de Chagny had two sons: Raoul and Erik? What if Raoul was just as genius as Erik was, possibly even more so?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! This is my first multi-chapter story. This first chapter will be in Madeleine's (Erik's mother) POV. **

**Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. **

**Newborn**

I held both of my babies in my arms, trying to figure out what a normal mother should feel after the birth of my children. Probably happiness, joy, and love. Well, I was feeling any of those free right now. Not to the baby that was surly from the pits below.

But my other son, the one napping in my right arm, was perfect. His porcelain skin, his cute tiny nose, his tiny fingers—everything about him was perfect. He was worthy of his deceased Father's name: Raoul.

The monster in my left arm, however, was not worthy of a name. I shall deny him this right as I shall deny him the right to love and be loved.

A disgrace to the deChagny name, that was all the monster was. He shall pay for forcing me into an uncomfortable position with my other high-rank friends and partners. I shall pretend I only have one son worth loving.

**One month old**

In our house, there are two stories plus an attic that was left empty. When my sons were both one month old, I found that I could no longer be near the monster without feeling mentally sick. Therefore I placed him in a cradle in the attic and could promptly forget about his existence for days at end.

However, like any mother, I had a natural pull to him and fed him but infrequently. He has to learn to take care of himself sooner or later.

But Raoul—I pampered him. He was my true son, my only son. Already he showed signs of intelligence. When I played simple puzzles with me, he was always so quick to solve it and grew bored shortly after we had finished every puzzle I had. I found that I needed to keep Raoul busy in order to pacify his growing knowledge. It gave me great joy to know that my son was a true genius.

It never occurred to me that there might be a genius in the monster.

**Five months old**

Whereas Raoul was calm and dignified, the monster was rebellious. During the day, I could always hear his childish calls for attention. Once I even found him outside of his room, trying to get down the stairs. I had screamed, nearly fainting in shock. I didn't even want to consider how he got out of his room; all that matters was that he had disobeyed my rules. I picked him up and almost threw him into the cradle. Not noticing how he had already outgrew the tiny bed I slammed the door shut, ignoring his cries.

I leaned against the door, trying to calm myself. The monster was not understanding the fact that I will not—_could _not—look at him. Determinedly, I picked up my sewing kit and fashioned a mask that will change his outlook in life forever.

**One year old**

I felt so proud for my little Raoul. He was only one year old, but I could tell he will be smarter than most adults in a few years. I found that he had a growing aptitude in math, a subject that never really fascinated me. But I was nevertheless pleased with this. A deChagny, after all, does need to have a good education.

In celebration, I held his first birthday party with a chocolate cake, one candle and a message that I put myself: _I love you, Raoul!_

To my shock, Raoul looked at me with shining eyes and chirped out, "Thank you, Mama!"

I nearly fell out of my seat! I hugged Raoul, feeling the joy and happiness a mother should feel.

I wasn't aware that the monster upstairs was also calling, "Mama! Mama!"


	2. Chapter 2

Raoul's POV

I often forget the fact that I even had a brother living upstairs. As far as I was concerned, I was the only child, and I was perfectly content with that.

Sometimes I was struck with inspiration that I just had to put on paper. Once I had paper and quill in my hand, what I could do was endless. One idea leaped to the next. My hand will not stop until the drawing, music score, or design was done. And when it was done, my mother would be there to congratulate me and tell me how gifted I am.

Everywhere I go, everything I do, I was greeted with warmth, love, and acceptance. I was fully confident that one day the world would honor me for my music. To prepare for that day, I started writing an opera named _The Magic Flute. _The notes just came pouring out of my pen.

However, despite how wonderful life was, there were some gaps in my life that I wasn't aware of until I grew later. I first heard the childish singing when I was around five years old. Its tone was similar to mine—ethereal quality. However, the singing seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. In one second, it was coming upstairs, then it was in the kitchen, and by the time I run to the kitchen, it already moved back upstairs. I was thoroughly convinced it was a ghost in the house. My mother was irrationally fearful whenever I mention the ghost's presence.

"You must never mention it ever again. Do you hear me? Never!" my mother would shout exasperatedly when my pestering questions became too much.

"But why not, Mother? I could chase it out for you! You'll be safe!" I childishly promised. From my mother's continued praises and congratulations, I became very confident in myself and really did think I could do anything.

My mother knelt down to my level. "I wish you could," she said wistfully, ruffling my golden brown locks. "I really wish you could, Raoul."

I was so surprised by her sincerity and the utter sadness in her voice that I couldn't speak. After that conversation, I was even more piqued with curiosity and I knew that unless I found the ghost I wouldn't get rid of this itching feeling inside of me. So I grabbed my flashlight, my rope, and a bag in which I shall capture the ghost inside.

My plan was to first locate where the ghost sleep because ghosts obviously have to sleep to, right? I found that the ghost always start singing around three in the afternoon. It must have been sleeping before. That just made it easier for me to catch it then!

I crept upstairs when my mom was cooking lunch in the kitchen. I made sure especially to skip the top step, for it creaks very loudly. I didn't want to alarm the ghost.

There were four doors, two on the right and two on the left. I had already been in each of them and knew fairly well there wasn't anything haunted about any of them, but I entered each of them anyways. None of the floors creaked suspiciously, none of the walls gave in, and there was no secret button. My heart and I jumped when I heard my mother call, "Five minutes till lunch, Raoul! Come down and wash your hands."

"C-coming, Mother! Just a few more minutes!" I yelled back. I gave the room another quick glance and then ran down the hallway. However, I was running so fast that I tripped and fell on my face.

I got up slowly, looking around my body to see if anything was damaged. Suddenly, my ears heard a soft whining of a baby. I frowned. I was the only child in the house. I followed the sound and found myself going towards the wall on the other side of the hallway. It was dark brown and rough in surface. The cries got louder. Was a baby in trouble? Panic filled me and I pressed hard on the wall.

The wall didn't budge. Desperately, I looked around the corners of the wall and run my hand around the surface. I suddenly noticed that a tiny bump of the wall was wobbly and pushed it. Nothing happened. I moved it to the right and something clicked and the wall automatically moved to the right. I gaped at it, but the gorgeous cries of the baby brought me against my will towards the lonely cradle in a dark, dusty room.

I clicked on my flashlight. A very small bundle lay in the middle of the bed in the cradle. I neared it slowly, softly singing a lullaby to calm the baby down. But my mind was filled with questions. Why was the baby here? Did Mother know? It did not matter. I found the baby. I was his savior. I lifted the cloth away from his face.

All thoughts disappeared when I saw his face and I felt as if I was kicked in the stomach. Oh God! There was a scream and I ran out. I didn't even realize the scream was mine until I found myself in my mother's arms.

"It was terrible!" I sobbed. "There is a monster upstairs, Mother!"

Understanding dawned on my mother's face. "So you found your brother," she said flatly.

I looked up her tearfully. "Brother? I have a brother? And it's a monster?" I let out another howl. "Why? Why did we have to be cursed with a monster? Why didn't you just kill him?"

"Listen to me, Raoul." Mother hugged me tightly. "It is immoral to kill a helpless baby, even if it is a monster. Once it is older, I will abandon it. Just wait, alright? You don't need to do anything for it. I'll deal with it. You will never be subjected to its evil."

I shook my head in denial. "But his voice," I objected. "It's nearly as magical as mine, Mother!"

"No." Mother held my face in her palms. "That is no angel's voice like yours. That is the devil. Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly. All I knew then as a five years old was that I will never get the image of his horrible face out of my mind.


End file.
